


Guns and Roses

by LordPocky



Category: Red vs. Blue, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Gen, Kink Meme, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-03 02:53:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4083898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordPocky/pseuds/LordPocky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warnings and ships will be added when they're applicable, I'll try to remember to tag triggers and/or ships per chapter. </p>
<p>From the kink meme (Albeit I'll only be writing the AH crew in the canyon side)<br/>Our RvB babes doing podcasts and Minecraft let's plays, and/or the lads, gents, and all teams in between fucking around in a box canyon (or being badass freelancers)</p>
<p>+agent puerto rico</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's going down

"Hey...."

"M'nyea?"

"You ever wonder why we're here?"

"Naw....I mean, I'm here for the usual reasons, glory, bitches, money, and shooting shit.....what I DO wonder is why YOU'RE here, I mean, for fuck's sake you're holding your gun backwards again!"

There was an embarrassed shuffle with an awkward chuckle as the denim-armoured spartan righted his firearm, no longer pointing the pistol at his stomach. "Whoh, close one that time Jonesy, I've already shot my foot twice this week, don't think Agent Puerto Rico would wanna have to bandage up another hole," he laughed, seeming to enjoy the joke well enough for the both of them, though needless to say Jones was getting more than a little fed up with having to tote him back inside with profuse bleeding. "But nah, I mean like.....why here? Like this box canyon sucks all the dicks, we're just here to fight the other guys and they're just here to fight us. Doesn't that seem really stupid?"

Jones groaned heavily, rubbing his visor with his free hand. It took all his might not to turn his shot gun on his 'boi'. "Listen Free, we've got someone coming from high command, just TRY not to embarrass us today? Like, that's possible for you, right? We've got repairs on the base and I don't want you fucking around with the builders and pissing them off."

"Wot? You make it sound like that's all I do!" Free gasped in shock. He was a GOOD guy! He never understood why his buddies seemed to think he was such a piece of shit......actually....usually in those exact words.

\------

"What are they doing?"

".....what?"

"I said 'what are they doing?'"

"Oh no, I heard you....but I want you to think about who you're talking about for a moment.....these guys haven't done anything since day one! That one blue hasn't even shot US half as much as he's shot HIMSELF! And his CO........and even the agent they've got working with them for that matter."

"So nothing?"

"Yes Pattillo.......nothing..." Haywood sighed. They'd been in that box canyon for too long.....sometimes it felt like just a sad state to fight the blues. The cobalt CO was pretty much the best in hand-to-hand combat, and their Agent was probably the best marksman he'd ever seen....but the third member was SUCH an incredible drain that he did so much damage to the others (And himself) that anything they did was completely redundant. 

Another glance down the sniper rifle proved no more fruitful, the two were still....just standing there.....still just talking....the idiot blue finally took his gun away from his stomach.....it pained him a little to watch. With a glance to his suit's internal chronometer he decided half an hour was enough time wasted on watching them dick around doing even less than the red team, also at least back at base he could feed Edgar. It was a little sad his pet was the highlight of his entire station in that godforsaken patch of hell.

Finally Haywood got up from his prone position on their nook, brushing dirt and clumps of grass out of the creases in his armour. "Alright, I guess let's head back and report the total bupkiss we learned watching those idiots," he sighed, returning the sniper rifle to its holder on his back.

"Already?" Pattillo asked, slightly less cheeky than usual....though Haywood suspected it was simply because he'd started dozing off inside his armour again....ahhh, to have that liberty.

The two heaved themselves off the alcove to heel-toe it back to red base.

\------

"So command is sending some guys to handle repairs. Last blue attack they managed to detonate a bomb and blow a hole in our East wall. We're also going to be getting a drop of a Mongoose--"

"What? Why a Mongoose? Those only seat two, why don't we get siege bikes?"

Ramsey turned a disgusted look towards his fellow rust-coloured teammate, mouth opening and closing a moment before he spoke, "So siege bikes only seat one person...." he said slowly, "we'd need three rather than just one....and we CAN do two-man missions with one person to protect the base....see how that works? Besides! I've seen your files, regardless what vehicle gets delivered you'll finally have a use!" It was no secret that Pattillo wasn't the best with weapons....it was reassuring he wasn't as bad as the bluetard, but he was supposedly excellent with vehicles. It DID say he was exceptional with siege bikes....but unfortunately It was what was offered. Maybe he'd be able to finagle the bikes eventually. 

"That's true," he conceded. 

"They're also dropping in a supply shipment in their next drop, we're running low of a few necessities."

"Are you kidding?" Haywood asked sceptically, "I JUST did an inventory, our rations are fine, ammo is fine....what do we need?"

"Well someone, and I'm not saying who, managed to go through seven bottles of whisky over the weekend. And I'm not saying anyone was to blame....but someone may've also gone through our supply of tacos on a drunken bender. HOWEVER! This brings us to our next order of business; the next supply drop isn't scheduled for another week and a half....games night is tomorrow....obviously we can't have one without the other. SO! I propose we 'liberate' some liquor from those filthy blues!"

The other reds laughed at the idea, it wasn't as if it was the first time they'd performed such an idle task just to pass time. Their time in the Valley had been spent in various ways.....for the most part dicking around, annoying the blues, doing their damnedest to piss off the cerulean agent...good times. It was just a shame the lack of alcohol wouldn't bother their agent in the slightest, if anything it would be a relief their denim-hued soldier wouldn't get drunk and cause shenanigans.

"OKAY!" Ramsey exclaimed, clapping his fire-engine gloved hands, "Haywood, you're running distraction. You have full access to our supply of grenades to use as you see fit--"

"Now for this plan...I may have devised something that will cost us our last shipment of milk...."

"Go to it man." Ramsey nodded his approval. He knew better than to get between Haywood and whatever insane plots he could think up on the fly. They were always weird and oddly effective. "Pattillo, you'll be with me and we'll be sorting through their piss-water excuse for beer and grabbing whatever bottles they have of whisky. Everything else I'll leave up to your discretion, but make no mistake those are our priorities."

"Yessir!"

The CO strode in front of his men, stroking his armoured face as though twiddling some hidden moustache, "alright.....now our little heist will go something like this...."

Oh....this assault would be glorious.

\------

"Ohhh.....ma boii, what is that horrible stench?" Free asked, retching inside his helmet.

At the same moment Jones made a face under his, but immediately shut down his outside filtration, blocking out the smell. "What, did you fuckin rip one off?" he demanded, irritation clear in his voice. It wouldn't be the first time the idiot ripped ass and tried to blame it on anything else. Or maybe he'd dropped another stink bomb he'd intended to slip into Jones' case of mountain dew.....also wouldn't be a first.

"Augh, no!" he replied, covering the face of his helmet as if trying to shield his nose from the smell. "Oh that is just FOUL! It wasn't you then?"

Jones shook his head, eyes narrowed under his helmet. Something was off...nothing ever just....suddenly happened for no reason. Not in that shit-hole of a valley, not when he was surrounded by so many assholes that liked to make problems for no reason. He hadn't completely ruled out Free having done something (As if he'd never lit a fire and screamed liked a girl in shock that shit was burning down) but this didn't seem like his usual thing....particularly because he had such a weak stomach to everything, he didn't usually stink himself out of work.

"Oh my GOD Free! Fucking fix your filters to recycle your clean air and NOT outside air. What the fuck is wrong with you!" he snapped after listening to the denim spartan gag for several minutes.

Sounds from him immediately stopped, removing his hands from his helmet and picking himself up from his doubled-over position. "Oh, ya! Cheers lad!" he laughed.

Yea, definitely not Free. But who else would? It wasn't the type of thing the leader of the reds would pull....he was far less subtle....usually his sneak attacks were tripping over the grassy hills with bullets flying. He and that other red guy weren't very good at stealth. Agent Puerto Rico didn't DO pranks.....which left the other red guy....the one crimson armour....he hated when that guy took the field. He was just so....weird....and oddly devious in the dumbest ways. The list of suspects clearly narrowed down, Jones pulled out his sniper rifle, peering down the scope for a better look. Where was that rat fuck?

"Wot? Wot is it ma boii? See something?"

"Oh my GOD Free!! SHUT UP!" he snapped, eyes actually sore from rolling so fucking much. "I think it's that weird red...the one that SOUNDS just like the other red but is way better."

There was a moment of silence as Free obviously tried to think who he meant. "Oh, you mean Haywood?" he asked finally.

The rifle in his hands slackened as Jones turned a disbelieving look to his fellow blue, mouth gaping under his helmet. "How do you know that? Is that even his name?"

"Oh me an' Ramsey were havin' a right laugh the other night!" he laughed, hands up in a carefree gesture, "He was tellin' me ALL about the other reds over a couple bevvies!"

Jones narrowed his eyes behind his visor, mouth still working open and closed. He had a couple bevvies. With their enemy. He sat down for a few drinks with someone he knew was on opposite sides of the war. Talking to Free just hurt his brain sometimes. While yes, they could have a laugh plenty of times....when it came to work or having to rely on the idiot for ANYTHING it was nothing but stress. "Wait.....which one is Ramsey?"

"Oh, the one with all the tattoos, good laugh that guy, sharp ta boot."

The one with the tattoos. Of course, it made perfect sense. "I STILL DON'T KNOW WHICH ONE THAT IS!" he yelled, gun completely forgotten as his fists balled up at his sides. "How do you even know their names! How do you even know what they LOOK LIKE?!"

"Oh eyy, calm down," Free defensively held his hands up in a sign of surrender, "I think he said he wears fire-engine red? I think? He said somethin' about his daughter loving fire engines!" he said brightly, clearly thinking himself terribly helpful. He was not.

Jones crouched, placing his helmeted head in his hands as he tried to breathe deeply. Their commander. Of course Free was having drinks with the enemy commander. Why WOULDN'T he be having drinks with the enemy commander? Made PERFECT sense! He cringed as the throbbing in his head refused to lessen. Finally a squeaked yell from Free (Or whatever any SANE person called that ungodly noise he made when startled) drew Jones' head from his hands, first scowling at the spartan before turning to look at what he was pointing at.

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!" he screamed, leaping to his feet with a fist raised in the air. He watched helpless as three red pricks ran off with crates in their arms.

Not moments later a shot rang off, echoing against the valley walls. "Got 'em!"


	2. Hit me baby one more time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well....couldn't let everyone free unscathed, right? Either next chapter or the one after I'll be throwing in more of the RT crew, feel free to keep posting shipping suggestions, but no ships will be around for probably 2 chapters at least? I think? Fucked if I know I'm just here to look pretty! o vo/

Well....that answered the question of where the agent was. Ramsey scrunched his face when he heard the shot fire, snapping to look at his men. Pattillo was fine, still holding his crate of alcohol....Haywood on the other hand.....it seemed his 'detonate milk bombs on the blue base and let the rancid milk stink them out' plan hadn't ended the way any of them had hoped. It seemed far too lucky with how distracted it had made the other two, he should've known better.

Ramsey ran over to Pattillo and loaded the second crate atop the one he already carried, leaving him to their ill-gotten gain so he could turn to the crimson soldier behind them. He wasted no time with assessing Haywood's wounds just yet, pulling him into a half-embrace to drag his fallen soldier away as quickly as possible, it was just pure luck that the agent didn't bother to put up a chase. 

Pattillo slowed a bit to look over his shoulder, casting a wary glance at their fellow spartan. "How is he?" he asked, usual joking tone aside as it filled with concern. Somehow that just bothered Ramsey all the more. He preferred Pattillo acting like a cheeky piece of shit, and at the moment it would've made things a lot easier to shrug off.

"Fine. He'll be fine. He's breathing, still conscious I think...." he paused, shuffling Haywood in his arms and eliciting a weary mumble. Close enough. He'd take it. "Yea...he'll be fine, let's just get him back to base, I don't know how bad it is yet." It was fortunate at least that he had SOME medical training. Ramsey wasn't a medic by any means, but he at least would be able to clean and wrap any bullet wound....so long as it wasn't anything serious. Hell, maybe he'd be in luck and the builders would be able to patch him up better than either Ramsey or Pattillo, if he had any sort of luck at least.

His face scrunched distastefully under his helmet, already regretting their decision. It wasn't his smartest idea....that was for damn sure. As much as Ramsey complained about the assholes that worked with him he didn't actually like seeing any harm come to them, they were HIS assholes after all. Damnit......their whole war had gone tits up since the agent had entered the fray, the other two used to bicker like an old married couple and never do a damn thing....except when the idiot with an accent occasionally joined him for drinks.....but there was a mutual doing nothing state! He missed that! It was hard to think up new and creative ways of dicking around while still managing to do absolutely nothing!

Back at the base Ramsey laid Haywood out in the medical bay, a room usually only used when he'd had one too many bevs with his drinking buddy and needed a handful of horse tranquilizers. At least it meant the room itself was fairly clean, of all rooms they had ransacked it was spared. When Pattillo put the liquor in storage he joined his fellow red team, warily eying Haywood as their CO removed his armour. While their armour had certain life support systems that made them able to withstand an unnatural amount of damage, they couldn't tend wounds, merely moderate health and dose with medicine to keep soldiers on their feet and in the battle. 

"How's he doin'?"

Ramsey started as he snapped around to look at Pattillo. "Uhh," he stammered, drawn out of his focus on trying to fix up his subordinate, "he'll live," he said finally, his fingers gingerly touching the edges of the burn, earning a whinge of pain. It seemed Haywood wasn't completely out. "The round penetrated here, and was a through-and-through. He's lost blood from the entry and exit but it could've been worse, doubt he'd trust either of us digging around in his shoulder to find a bullet."

The diagnosis seemed to ease Pattillo's mind at least a little, letting his step away from the door and move over closer, eyes locked on the hole. "So he'll be okay? Nothing vital was hit?"

"In his shoulder?" Ramsey asked dubiously, eyes narrowed. "No. His shoulder will be fine." He grabbed a clean, damp cloth and carefully placed it against the wound, blotting up the blood as gently as possible, he could hear the quiet keens the crimson spartan made, but knew there was nothing for it, he had to clean the injury and no amount of whining would clean it for him. "Besides....he's even still conscious, pretty out of it...but awake." Haywood gave an incoherent grumble, at least able to recognize they were talking about him. Another good sign, even if he was injured and probably in shock he was still coherent enough to know what was going on....somewhat.

Pattillo sighed in relief, finally coming over to stand next to the berth-bound soldier. "Well that's good, don't know what I'd do without him being creepy 24/7," he laughed. "We'd have to get a new man with the same voice if we wanted to uphold the tradition of confusing you with radio calls!" Though, to be fair it was no secret that they even confused themselves at times, command didn't even bother trying to guess any more.

Ramsey responded in a noncommittal grunt. While it did annoy him terribly when the two did that....it wasn't worth losing one of them. "Alright Haywood, gotta lean you up a bit," he murmured, lifting his teammate so he could clean the back of the wound. Haywood responded with a pained groan, cringing as his head lolled to plant on Ramsey's red shoulder-plate. Though, if anything the cold metal probably felt better on his face, he'd been sweating enough that his brown hair plastered to his face. "Hey, gimme the med kit, I need gauze and a bandage."

"Oh! Right!" Pattillo started, opening the kit to remove the requested items, his eyes had landed on Haywood's back and the more he saw of the injury the worse it looked, perhaps he hadn't realized how bad it was till he'd seen it from both sides. "Uh.....is there anything else I should be doing?" he asked tersely.

"Yea.....put that whiskey on ice, when he comes to he'll want a drink." Though....that may've been projection, he knew full well that the crimson armoured spartan didn't really drink, but after such an injury it helped to distract at least. When Pattillo left he carefully placed the gauze with medical tape and wrapped the entire shoulder. It would take some time to heal....but maybe if one of the visiting builders had any medical proficiency they'd be able to do more for him than he could.

After laying down a sterile blanket over top of Haywood, he left the medibay....he couldn't bring himself to stare at him any longer, besides, his suit monitored his teammates, he'd know if anything happened. He needed some sort of distraction and games usually suited that need.

Perhaps fortunately for him there was no update of Haywood's progress for at least an hour, his pulse staying steady and his brainwaves concurrent with sleep. Though, a sudden hefty increase in his heart rate had Ramsey flying to the medibay to check up on him. He was still asleep but was rolling over, breathing heavily and in clear pain, either from a nightmare or his last dose of medication was wearing off. Slowly he began to stir, eyes unfocussed as he stared in the direction of his CO.

"What happ--.......why am I--....." he groaned as slowly sat up, cringing from the pain in his shoulder, but that only seemed to focus him in on what was happening. "I was....shot..." he said slowly, remembering what had happened. "The agent......agent racially-insensitive, right?" he grit his teeth as he spoke, Ramsey couldn't pin whether it was anger or pain....either way with a twisted mind like Haywood had he wasn't too keen on knowing one way or the other.

Slowly Ramsey leaned over, checking the monitors....maybe he should've set up an IV to administer more drugs to keep him sedated...then again he doubted he'd be able to find the vein on the first....or even seventh try. "Yea, Agent Puerto Rico. He sniped you with an flechette slug and it went straight through. It'll take some time to heal up on its own, so you're gunna be ship bound until you're in working order again." Of course, that was just his assumption, a kinetic weapon made the most sense, in part because it took skilled hands (which unfortunately the Agent's were just that) but also because of the tell-tale smoke trail he'd seen....but he doubted the trivia would interest his soldier any.

Haywood let out a heavy breath, slowly and carefully leaning back on the berth, eyes lolling closed in what seemed to be contemplation. It was a dangerous look. "Alright..." he relinquished eventually. Ramsey knew damn well just how he hated being stuck inside, but it was safer than letting him reinjure himself so soon and Haywood was smart enough to know just that. "I'll need you to get me some supplies though...."

Shit.....there it was. Whatever Haywood had planned it would be bad....it usually was. At least this time he wouldn't have to worry about snakes with mini cameras strapped to their heads.....he hadn't slept for a month after that. This time his creative mad scientist shtick would be directed at only one person....he pitied the cerulean Agent. Not enough to help or stop Haywood, god no! But enough that he could empathize with his soon-to-be suffering. When Rmasey finally conceded he sighed, head dropping forward to his chest, "Okay, get me a shopping list.....just remember....you have ENOUGH Edgars!"

**Author's Note:**

> So! This is my first work in a while, still writing out the kinks (OH But WHAT kinks! Ho-Ho-HO!!). Ship are undecided so feel free to leave comments for your OTP and I'll see what happens, I'll be sending in the builders soon who may or may not stick around so. Also I'll update the warnings as neccisary and try to remember to put warnings and shipping names in chapter titles as a fair warning although I'm a huge air head so.....aahhhhahhaha!!!! o vo/


End file.
